Essay from Robert Thomas

B-26 plane taking off in a field.

My father, Technical Sargent Stanley F. Thomas flew a total of 60
missions as a bombardier and tail gunner on a B-26 Marauder, twin
engine bomber in World War II. The minimum Air Force requirement
of missions to be served was 25-30. Since my father never
discussed the war with his children, I never knew whether he
exceeded the mandate out of patriotism, or he was just an adrenaline
junkie. In either case, along with an Air Medal, he was awarded the
Distinguished Flying Cross. The medal bracket on his uniform also
held numerous unit citations with oak leaf clusters. Along one side of
the front of his leather jacket, a number of bombs were stenciled
indicating direct bombing hits, while an adjacent row of swastikas
evidenced enemy planes downed by his unit in combat.

The B-26 Marauder was designed and put into production a number
of years prior to the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The Army Air Corp 1
(AAC) prepared itself for any possible contingency. Specification for
the plane included a speed of between 250-350 mph. Because the
plane was to be used as a strategic bomber, the plane had to be able
to out pace the then known top airspeeds of German and Japanese
fighters. The plane also had to have sufficient arms to repel any
attack by fighters as it performed its mission. Thus, both nose and
rear 30 caliber machine guns, as well as a top turret gun was
mandated. Later, the 30 caliber guns were replaced by 50 caliber
weapons. Additionally, the plane had to carry a sufficient load of
bombs, enough to cause significant damage to designated targets.
This meant that weight was of crucial importance. The desire for
maximum bomb load resulted in a short wing span. A shorter wing
meant greater takeoff and landing speeds. Since the landing gear of
the B-26 were in a tricycle-like position, particular attention had to be
paid to making sure the rear wheels touched down first, with the nose
wheel gently allowed to touch down last. This was no easy feat when
coming in at 150 mph or better. Doing so in a damaged plane made
the task even more difficult.

Crews treated their planes as if they were their own possessions.
Nose art with pet names became a standard, giving the crew and
plane a personal identity. My father’s crew named their plane, Kizio
Pofoth 2nd, Eaglet. The name consisted of the first letters of the last
names of the all the crew members (See airplane above photo).
Strategic bombing was considered crucial to any successful outcome
in a war. Before any major offensive (D-Day) the enemy’s ability to
counter attack had to be thwarted. This meant destroying war
materials factories, to limit their production of armaments and
supplies; bombing the enemy’s airfields to minimize their dominance
of the airways; and to knock out transportation venues such as roads,

The author's father in his flying jacket in front of his plane.
Devon Francis, Flak Bait (Duell, Sloan and Pearce, New York, 1948), xi-xvi 1
10T Sgt Stanley Thomas

bridges and rail yards to keep them from moving supplies and troops
into areas of combat. However, at times, given unforeseen
circumstances, other targets may have to be considered a priority.
This proved to be the case when Germany began implementing the
V-1 rocket attacks on England. The V-1 emplacements were
scattered across the coastal areas of France and the Netherlands,
and had to be taken out, diverting the B-26s from other strategic
targets.

The mission of the B-26 units in WWII was to provide strategic
intervention, both prior to and after D-Day. The 387th Bombardment
Group to which my father was attached, was eventually based in
10various areas of England. A total of 36 or more planes from this
group flew out each day. My father’s squadron, the 557th was
stationed in Chipping Ongar, located thirty miles northeast of London.
From Chipping Ongar, daily sorties of planes flew out over the English
Channel to areas of France, Belgium and the Netherlands.

Every mission was fraught with danger, not only from possible
mechanical problems that might render the plane unable to fly, but
also from enemy fire. Anti-aircraft guns protected many of the target
areas. These guns sent up shells that exploded at a given height.
Many of the B-26s were damaged and or brought down by barrages
of flak exploding at the height of the planes. B-26s often came back
to base riddled with holes, their crews sometimes injured or dead
from shrapnel wounds. While less frequently encountered, enemy
fighters were also a challenge. In cases of fighter attack, the skill and
dexterity of the gunners was crucial to the crews lives. Although,
occasionally, the Americans had friendly fighter escorts run
intervention for them. These escorts extended only as far as the
fighters range, which were far less than the B-26s flew to reach their
targets. Luck also played a part in the crew’s survival. My father had
to abort one mission due to severe illness. His replacement came
back deceased from a flak hit.

In addition to operating the tail gun on a B-26, my father had the
responsibility of preparing the bombs for deployment. A safety fuze
pin had to be removed from each bomb before release. The fuze pin
consisted of a cotter pin, to which a paper tag was attached. A short
safety notice was printed on one side, while the other side of the tag
was blank. For each mission flown, Sgt. Thomas saved one tag,
upon which he wrote notes related to the mission. Each tag indicated
The number of mission; the name of the target; sometimes the
weather conditions; enemy fighter encounters; amount of flak;
number and size of bombs dropped; and occasionally other personal
comments. The tags became a diary of his missions.

I sorted all of the fuse tags in order from his first mission to his last,
with only five tags missing. Rather than describe his experiences in
narrative form, I have decided to let my father’s own words tell his
story. Below are his notes as he wrote them for each mission:

1) August 16, 1943, Bernay-St. Martin airdrome, first mission, James
Michael’s first gift (New born 1st child), more to come.
2) September 3, 1943, Lille-Nord Airfield, fighter airdrome, heavy to
medium accurate flak, all safe. Dropped 6, 500 lb. bombs.
3) September 14,1943, Lille-Nord Airfield, fishing trip, plenty of flak,
target under cloud cover.
4) September 14, 1943, Lille-Nord Airfield, turned back when over
target-weather bad, went fishing, light flak
5) September 25, 1943, St. Omer-Longuenesse Airfield, target
under cloud cover, couldn’t see results, cold as hell, 6, 500 lb.
bombs dropped.
6) September 21, 1943, Beauvais-Tille Airfield, two ships hit by
fighters, one lost, one made belly landing on airfield. Also one single
engine landing. We were jumped by 18 FW 190s. Engineer of one
ship bailed out when ship was hit and set afire. Dropped 10, 300 lb.
bombs.
7) October 3, 1943, Woensdrecht Airfield, inaccurate flak, bombed
alternate target on coast. Dropped 10, 300 lb. bombs.
8) October 22, 1943, Evreaux-Fauxville Airfield dispersal area, direct
hits, beautiful morning takeoff, Little flak, no fighters. Sweated out
landing, sick as a dog. Dropped 6, 500 lb. bombs.
9) October 22, 1943, Cambrey-Epinoy Airfield, raining-fog-soup, did
not drop bombs, rear 18 shot down, FW-190, could not see 100 yds
in front, Cambai/Epinoy. 4 1000 lb. bomb load.
10) November 3, 1943 St. Andre de L’Eure Airfield, flak intense, lost 2
B26s and 1 Spitfire. Saw FW 190, Got in some potshots. Dropped 4,
1000 lb bombs.

11) November 5, 1943, Mimoyecques V-1 site, excavations between
Calais and Boulogne, France, flak intense and accurate, one B26 lost
from 386th. Six boxes of 36 planes on this target- secret
12) November 26, 1943, Cambrai-Epinoy Airfield, target X, overcast,
just got into the coast.
13) November 29, 1943, Cambrai-Epinoy Airfield, target X, Buildings
of workers, good hits registered. Typhoon cover, short trip in and out,
pas La Calais, flak heavy, bomb stuck in bay.
14) December 1, 1943. Cambrai-Epinoy Airfield dispersal area, hit her
right on the button, flak over target-light, fighters on way out, spitfires
engaged same. Dropped 6, 500 lb bombs.
15) December 1, 1943, did not drop bombs, in over coast and out.
16) December 2, 1943, Did not Drop bombs?
17) December 30, 1943, Le Meillard-Bonniers V-1 site, target 2X, tour
of France over the Pas De Calais area. Had a good dose of light flak It
was terrifying. Could not locate target. 6, 500 lb. bombs.
18) December 31. 1943, Cormette V-1 site, Pas De Calais
construction works no bombs dropped 6, 500 lb. bomb load.
19) January 23. 1944, Le Grismont V-1 site, no ball (Code for V-1)
target in Pas De Calais area, no flak, no fighters, spitfire escort fair
bombing. Dropped 5, 500lb. bombs.
20) No tag?

21) February 9. 1944, Belleville en Caux V-1 site, no ball in Pas De
Calais , cloud cover, made two penetrations, bomb not dropped,
landed at Friston-emergency-weather bad. 6, 500 lb. bomb load.
22) February 10, 1944, Poix Airfield, no ball in Pas De Calais, cloud
cover, hit airfield no flak, milk run. 6, 500 lb. bombs dropped.
23) February 11, 1944, Amiens marshalling yards at Amiens, France,
cloud cover over target, hit no ball in break through clouds-12 bursts
of flak only in rear of formation. 6, 500 lb. bombs dropped.
24) February 24, 1944, Leeuwarden Airfield, Holland, base of 60
single, and 60 twin engine fighters. Good bombing results. 10 miles
from German border, light to heavy flak. 30, 100 lb. bombs dropped.
25) February 24, 1944, St. Josse Au Bois V-1 site, no ball Pas De
Calais, St Josse Au Bois, dropped 8, 300 lb. bombs, no flak, no
fighters.

26) February 25, 1944, Venlo Airfield, Holland on German border, first
glimpse of Germany, light- heavy flak. Lost 4 B26s over north Sea to
fighters. Box in back of us saw whole show 5 miles back. Dropped
10 250 lb. bombs.
27) No tag?
28) February 28, 1944, Ray sur Authie V-1 site, no-ball Pas De Calais
cloud cover did not bomb. 8, 500 lb bomb load.
29) February 29, 1944, Behen V-1 site, no-ball Pas De Calais hit
target, no flak milk run. 8, 500 lb. bombs dropped.
30) March 3, 1944, Montdidier Airfield, hit field, flak accurate,
received 8 holes, pilot hit by flak in arm. Really sweated on this one.
14 250 lb. bombs dropped.

31) March 5, 1944, Ray sur Authie V-1 site, no-ball Pas De Calais.
1032) March 6, 1944. Bois de Huit Rues V-1 site, no-ball Pas De Calais,
no flak, no fighters.10, 500 lb. bombs dropped.
33) March 20, 1944, Criel marshalling yards, France, flak inaccurate,
fighter-none attacked, Saw Paris Eiffel tower. 14, 250 lb. bombs
dropped.
34) (no date) Criel marshalling yards hit target perfect, light flak, no
fighters. 10, 500 lb. bombs dropped.
35) March 23, 1944, Haine St. Pierre marshalling yard, hit target
perfect, light flak, no fighters, 10, 500lb. Bombs dropped.
36) March 26, 1944, Ijmuiden E-Boat pens, Holland, Marauders drop
600 tons of bombs. Flak intense, 2 men killed in lead ship, 4, 1000 lb.
bombs dropped.
37) April 10. 1944, Le Havre coastal defenses, gun emplacement, hit
target right on the button- flak intense and accurate, no fighters, 4.
1000 lb. bombs dropped.

38) April 11, 1944, Bonnieres V-1 site, no-ball, hit target, flak intense
and accurate, lost first ship in our squadron, Lt. Pratt- 2 chutes seen,
14 250 lb. bombs dropped.
39) April 12, 1944. Dunkerque coastal defenses, gun emplacement,
hit target, flak intense and accurate, lost lead plane-colonel Caldwell,
no flak holes, really prayed on this one, 4, 1000 lb. bombs dropped.
40) April 30, 1944, Bois d’Enfer V-1 site, no-ball Pas de Calais, Good
bombing, flak accurate, aileron shot up, no fighters, 4, 1000 lb.
bombs dropped.
41) April 30, 1944, Somain marshalling yards, didn’t release bombs,
tour of France, no fighters, no flak, 4, 1000 lb. bomb load.
42) May 1, 1944, Monceaux-sur-Sambre marshalling yards, bombing
fair, no flak, no fighters, 4, 1000 lb. bombs dropped.
1043) May 1, 1944, Louvain marshalling yards, good bombing, no
fighters, flak on bomb run, 8, 500 lb. bombs dropped.
44) May 11, 1944, Hardelot coastal defenses, short of target, flak
hole in right wing, no fighters, 4, 1000 lb. bombs dropped.
45) May 12, 1944, La Parnelle coastal emplacements, short of target,
no flak, milk run, no fighters, 4, 1000 lb. bombs dropped
.

46) No tag?
47) No tag?
48) May 20, 1944, Benerville coastal guns, direct hits on target, no
flak, no fighters, visibility poor at take-off, 2, 2000 lb. bombs dropped.
49) May 20, 1944, Fecamp coastal defenses north of Le Havre, no
flak, no fighters, P47 area cover, 4, 1000 lb. bombs dropped.
50) May 22, 1944, Barfleur/Panelle France coastal gun emplacement,
short of target, bombed on pathfinder, flak moderate, no hits, no
fighters, P 38 escort, 2, 2000 lb. bombs dropped.
51) May 24, 1944 Barffleur/La Parnelle gun emplacements, France,
direct hits, flak, no fighters, pathfinder tech, P 47 cover, 2, 2000 lb.
bombs dropped.

52) May 24, 1944, Etaples-St. Cecily coastal gun emplacements,
direct hits, no flak, no fighters, P47- cover, 2, 2000 lb. bombs
dropped.
53) May 26, 1944, Chartres Airfield, France, hit dispersal area, flak
heavy-accurate, lost Smith, #199 road-on single engine, no fighters,
2, 2000 lb. bombs dropped.
1054) May 28, 1944, Liege-Renory bridge, Belgium, hit north span, flak
accurate, nose hit at gun, no fighters, long haul, 4, 1000 lb. bombs
dropped.
55) May 28, 1944, Maison La Fitte R.R. bridge, Paris, France, missed
bridge, flak terrific-several holes, prayed like I never did before, No
fighters, 2 2000 lb. bombs dropped.
56) May 31, 1944, Bennecourt highway bridge. R.R. bridge France,
Seine, overcast did not bomb, no flak, no fighters, 2, 2000 lb. bomb
load.

57) June 2, 1944, Eperville-France, coastal gun emplacement, fair
bombing, no flak, no fighters, 2, 2000 lb. bombs dropped.
(June 6, 1944, D-Day)
58) No tag?
59) June 10, 1944, St. Lo troop concentrations, St. Lo R.R. bridge
France, invasion area, hit target area, meager flak, no fighters, 14, 250
lb. bombs dropped.
60) June 11, 1944, Pontaubault R.R. bridge, France-invasion area fair
results, no flak, no fighters, 2, 2000 lb. bombs dropped.

I have no information regarding whether my father returned home
after his 60th mission, or if he remained in England participating in
other duties until the end of the war.

Poetry from Susie Gharib

 
 Sanctions
  
 I walk my dog four times a day.
 There is nothing special about such a routine, 
 but if I tell you I feed my Loulou Spitz
 at the expense of my nutritional intake, 
 would you call me insane?
  
 This is my outfit for these daily strolls, 
 a woolen jumper to match her fluffy coat,
 a baggy jeans due to heavy weight loss, 
 and hair in a knot for absence of gloss.
  
 We wait for justice to ascend its throne,
 for sanctions to be lifted
 for a sun-born dawn,
 for wreckage to be sifted
 to salvage unburied bones, 
 for the return of electricity to current-less bulbs,
 for the advent of bread to hungry households
 without the discord that long queues invoke,
 for our dignity to be restored.
 
   
 If I fly, I will first class
  
 For eleven years, we have played our portion of the Hunger Games,
 and having survived these plights, 
 who says I am ready to depart
 from my own homeland
 for a better world?
  
 I might,
 but not before I am equipped with a beautiful, stone house
 and a well-fed bank account,
 a life to return to 
 should you humiliate me as you did in past times,
 for we will always be refugees in your own misapprehending eyes.
  
 If I fly, I will first class,
 but I am done with flights.
 They evoke a poor student’s unhappy times.
 Instead, I shall travel in a luxury car
 and have as many stops as there are stars in our night sky, 
 accompanied by my un-quarantined little dog,
 even if it takes years to reach the designated house,
 which should be totally devoid of other inmates
 and accessories that remind me of a poisoned past.
  
 You will probably respond by stating that I am in position to dictate what I like
 I say: “Suit yourselves, for having blasted our lives,
 you cannot make things any worse”.
 Bonne Chance !
 
 Reminiscence
 [In memory of my father]
  
 A few words would sum up my childhood:
 strawberries, chocolate, toys, and a rowing boat, 
 a chimney whose logs roaring glowed,
 the huge mirror before which I danced in our hall
 and rivers across which we tried to build bridges of stone.
  
 My dad had Da Vinci up the wall.
 He played his golden trumpet and silver saxophone.
 He prepared our breakfasts, our evening popcorn
 and set up a banquet for us before he dined outside our home.
  
 He never grew tired of wearing blue,
 enchanting us with his aftershave and Brut,
 and I could not help wearing his expensive perfume
 despite his gentle pleas to stop depleting his fragrant store.
  
 His few business trips abroad
 brought us accounts of travel that enthralled,
 the Château of The Count of Monte Cristo
 and the glamorous yachts of Monaco.
  
 He looked like Rock Hudson in his teens.
 Some opt for resemblance to James Dean.
 I say regardless of his handsome mien,
 he was the most generous dad that ever breathed.
 
   
 Finales
  
 Finales vary in their various tints:
 the tragic, the comic, and the open-end.
 Very few can boast an apocalyptic bend
 or a happy content.
  
 Those that are weaved on misfortune’s wheel
 appeal to the lachrymose, the morose, the realist,
 who attribute their plights to a vengeful god
 like the afflicted Mayor of Casterbridge.
  
 Those that are blessed with a humorous twist
 lend each mishap a sardonic concept,
 breeding a troop of permanent grins
 on contorted lips.
  
 The open-end titillates each wit,
 some wishful thinking to compete with a naturalistic trend,
 leaving the interpreter caught up in net
 of inner conflicts.
   

Article from Zara Miller, author of the YA historical novel I Am Cecilia

HERO VS. VILLAINS

“Honestly, the closest I can think of them, as well made as they are, with actors doing the best they can under the circumstances, is theme parks. It isn’t the cinema of human beings trying to convey emotional, psychological experiences to another human being.”

So, Martin Scorcese compares Marvel movies to theme parks. And honestly, what a mood.

True, this isn´t exactly the newsworthy material, Ricky Gervais discussed Scorcese´s top-notch diss of superhero culture movies during his monologue at the 2020 Golden Globe Awards.

But it recently popped up in my recommended videos because the Youtube algorithm works in mysterious ways and got to thinking – is it just about shallow screenwriting and the allure of cheap CGI action, the mindless fun?

And I realized that the problem of Marvel storytelling runs even deeper than the genius director conveyed to us out loud – that it heavily influenced the type of novels we get to read – and it´s not exactly Marvel´s fault … Not entirely.

ONE-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTERS

One-dimensional characters or flat characters do not change or grow from the start of the story to the end. Their purpose is to highlight the main character, to be a plot device, or a tool, and they typically are simpletons with a one point of view on life – they only see one dimension – hence one-dimensional characters, hold a simple and small perspective about life or the situation in the story. Their character is often used as a literary device to keep the narrative moving – many times when the script has written itself into a corner, or the writer has run out of effective ways to move the plot forward.

Now, Marvel, from the three-hundred and seventy-two movies total from which I´ve seen eighteen, does not suffer from one-dimensional characters on the hero side of the story. All the good guys go through trauma, they learn, they grow, they develop new opinions (ehm-ehm- some of them).

Marvel has been criticized for sucking at writing an effective villain but the problem is not the villains, the problem is the root of the Marvel storytelling – the good guys are good and the bad guys are bad.

One would think that they would take their own advice and write all the villains the way Loki is written – which is the reason (not the only one, yeah, Tom Hiddleston is awesome and all that) why audiences flock to him so much. He has a strong motivation, he´s smart and his character is a rainbow of personalities – just like a regular human being, which makes him likable and most importantly, relatable.

But Marvel is not the inventor of one-dimensional characters.

William Shakespeare is.

Benvolio from Romeo and Juliet, Gertrude from Hamlet, Shylock from The Merchant of Venice very effective plot devices with one stubborn character feature that poses an obstacle to the protagonist.

However, Shakespeare didn´t have Hollywood studios behind him to balance out the lack of personalities in his stories with raging beam in the sky and generic CGI armies. To give a complete experience to audiences, he had to support the narrative by creating strong protagonists, interesting antagonists, and villains with complex personalities (Lady Macbeth, Hamlet, Portia). And when you do that, your story not only allows for the one-dimensional character to make sense, it makes it even more immersive and realistic – because we all know that one blank person who is just sort of … there. Existing, with one opinion on all the debatable, morally grey, complicated stuff we deal with in life.

And that´s why people will never have such a raging allergy if a Marvel movie turns out bad and will keep watching them and paying for the next one and the next one and the next one.

Low stakes, low damage.

Now compare that to a show heavily driven by character development where there are no villains and heroes like the Game of Thrones. 

Feel like re-watching it? No? Me neither. And no one can blame us. That show became un-rewatchable due to replacing the complexity of the human heart with a hero vs. villain storytelling and adding some explosive Marvel-type action as the final lethal, cyanide-like icing on the cake. 

IN BOOKS

All the teenage apocalyptic series. Thank you for your time, good night.

….

I really didn´t want to get into this but there is no better example than the popular doomsday book series where children hunt each other in a world that no longer resembles a rational society. And they gave us all the subsequent movie franchises in which those very same teenagers are at least twenty-six years old, of course.

However, there is a silver lining on the horizon in a form of Shadow and Bone. I´ve never read the books but the popular fantasy book series The Grisha has been picked up by Netflix and the first book has been adapted in a form of a limited TV series.

And if the source material is as strong as the adaptation, we might just be plunging out of the lazy storytelling brought about by the likes of Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey.

DOES I AM CECILIA DO BETTER THAN THAT?

Cecilia used to think that being born to a small fortune, accompanied by chrysanthemums on the way from the hospital and surrounded by exploding fanfares of affection, would set her up for a never-ending life of lottery wins, parades without rain, and smooth slides on the slopes of adoration. She never realized how slippery that slope of adoration was. Maybe money was not the root of all evil. Family dysfunction was.

  • An Excerpt from I am Cecilia by Zara Miller

As promised last time in the first article, I would reveal a little bit behind the story and the inspiration behind writing this YA novel.

The hero vs. villain in the Marvel movies is something that was always on my mind and tried to avoid during writing. Blurring the lines in the protagonist/antagonist/villain/anti-hero characterization. Not just because it´s a lot of fun but because it makes for a rich experience.

When you find yourself disliking the hero yet rooting for them anyway, or loving the villain yet understanding that they have to be stopped – the writer is probably doing it right.

I am Cecilia is now available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/I-am-Cecilia-Zara-Miller-ebook/dp/B094519D7T/ref

You can follow me on Instagram @zaramiller_author, or on LinkedIn under Zara Miller for more news and swoon-worthy fiction content. Looking forward to meeting you all!

White woman in a brown top with brown hair and grey pants squatting down.

Poetry from Anthony Vernon

 Universes In The Sky 

 Lying upon obsidian ground 
 A Pneuman child stares at universes 
 Like stars in the night sky 
 The spiraling of galaxies and the crashing of cosmoses 
 Are but flickers 
 Explosions of physics and feelings 
 Are but distant episodes 
 What comprises totality for many 
 Is just a point of amusement

Anthony David Vernon's publishing credits include A Great Fire (2020 Cabinet of Heed), The Warrior King (2020 The Mindful Word), Seven Scripts (2021 The New Mystics), and An Echo An Echo (2021 The Drabble).

Prose from Kahlil Crawford

It’s always midnight beneath the viaducts…

The metropolis is divided by viaducts – a disparate world where aerosol art is eroded by automobile exhaust and industrial rain puddles littered with man-made debris. Much happens beneath these viaducts – from the holy to the ungodly…

Apparitions haunt passersby whose footsteps echo tales of life, death, and all else. Rumbling trains accelerate black eroded raindrops, sending soot-coated pigeons into a frenzy – protecting their dark nests tucked deep in the crevices of this elevated underworld, their crimson eyes cry forbidden songs.

Al frequently passes through the viaduct – his preferred route from the 4th-floor room he inhabits at the Y to the Blue line train that takes him to his seemingly endless stream of appointments. Today he’s going to see his therapist who seems to derive pleasure from changing his meds after nearly every visit. Al’s short on change again, so he checks for cops then hops the turnstile, feeling a rush of triumph over the pricey fare required for the two-mile ride to Six Corners.

Photo: @chicagogeek

The only thing wobblier than the swerving train car is his trembling hand – a janky side effect of the Klonopin. It thins his hair too, so he sports a grey golf cap he got for a quarter at the Brown Elephant. However, copping donated gear is not Al’s main reason for frequenting The Elephant – it’s the cashier…

Xochil has dark, shoulder-length hair that she sometimes stuffs into an engraved clip that reads “Hecho En Męxico”. She doesn’t talk much, but her fluctuating tone fills the verbal gaps. When she speaks of the weather her voice lilts up as the sun showers or down if the rain falls. She always drives her points home with pronounced hand gestures that suggest she enjoys a good dance from time to time. Xochil says that the Brown Elephant makes her feel like she’s serving the Lord in a practical way.

After his appointment, Al takes the Blue line back east then transfers to the Brown line. He’s heading to East Lakeview for his weekly social rehabilitation group at Catholic Charities. He hopes they paint today because he loves taking his easel to the park and practice painting the big Goethe statue on Diversey. There’s something calming about the smooth, earthly texture of the metal and the giant hawk perched on the knee of the protagonist. The base of the sculpture reads, “To Goethe: The Master Mind of the German People”.

Photo: @metalphotoman

Directly across the street is the Elk’s lodge – it’s always been a mystery to Al. Much more ornate than the Goethe site, its Romanesque architecture and well-polished sculptures add to its mystique.


To read the prequel, click HERE.

Poetry from Chimezie Ihekuna

What an amazing piece of nature
Yet, reflecting the other side of its torture
A place of  inspiration
Yet, the site for depression
The commonality or all  visible interactions
Yet, the disparity of all information
The presence of life abounds
Yet, the absence of death abounds
A creation of the living and non living essence
Yet, a design of  vacuum residence

Chimezie Ihekuna (Mr. Ben) Young Black man in a collared shirt and jeans resting his head on his hand. He's standing outside a building under an overhang.
Chimezie Ihekuna

Short story from Jack Galmitz

The Frogs

A Fable

            Beside a rivulet running along the woods just beyond the border of a suburban home, an assembly of frogs had gathered. You couldn’t mistake the croaking however far from the site you stood. It was urgent.

            “I’ve had enough” one of the more remonstrative males said. “I’ve just laid my second batch of tadpoles. It’s humiliating. Everyone is making fun of me.”

            Others joined in. They all knew they were the laughingstock of the species and the laughingstock of humans, too.

            “Soon we’ll be wearing dresses and putting on lipstick. It’s disgusting.”

            “Here here” came the general agreement echoed in the woods as more and more frogs came to join the assembled.

            “They want their little manicured lawns and sculpted hedges and they won’t tolerate wildflowers and any living thing they call a weed. And God forbid any insects should invade their little gardens. So they spray their lawns with pesticides that get into our water and we end up mutants- male frogs that get pregnant and give birth.”

            “What’s to be done” one of the more thoughtful croaked.

            “Let’s go to their Village Square in vast numbers and demonstrate” said a huge female sitting in the mud. “Perhaps, we can stage a die-in. That would generate some interest in our cause.”

“Hear hear” came a great croaking from the woods and by the rivulet and along the banks of the nearby river that ran along the town.

            “Break up into cells and report to the central committee we will establish today “said a small male frog. “We need to prepare and organize and have everyone attend. Thousands of frogs pretending to be dead in the center of their Village Square will wake them up to our existence.”

            So that day the Union of Concerned Frogs was born in the suburbs in the town of Bayville.  They quickly spread word to all frogs that lived in the neighboring townships so as to increase their numbers at the die-in.

            By the end of the night, the frogs in all the adjoining townships had organized and begun hopping under cover of night towards Bayville. There were easily tens of thousands as historians would later relate.

            As light broke on the highway, thousands of frogs could be seen moving along the edge of the road by drivers on their way to work. Some of the people were amused, some were panic stricken. There was no accounting for such an event.  It was unparalleled.

            Close to the opening of businesses, the Village Square was filled with frogs. They lay prostrate on the ground looking as if they were dead.

            As workers arrived, they were alarmed. They discussed the problem among themselves. Some suggested calling the Volunteer Fire Department. Some suggested they contact the Bayville Animal Control Center. Some of the elders who were just entering the local diner thought of the Plague on Egypt. The appearance of so many dead frogs sprawled about had a Biblical appearance to it. Children were ushered away by their parents.

            Pretty soon the fire engine of the Fire Department appeared on the scene. The hose was connected and a powerful jet of water was directed at the frogs. It lifted some of them off the ground, but when the Firefighters saw the frogs begin to stir to life, hop away and swim away, they realized there had been something else going on than at first sight appeared. Plus there were so many frogs that the hose was not going to be enough to wash them out of the Square.

            The Sanitation Department came in with the men using the great stiff brooms to sweep away the frogs. Well with thousands of frogs assembled, it was nearly impossible to make much headway in the task.

            Finally, the Animal Control Center was called in to assist. With all the Village services combined, they managed to sweep most of the frogs into huge plastic containers to be moved to the woods outside of the Village.

            Of course, the frogs were the subject of all the conversations held that day. The daily news station covered the removal effort. The story even reached some of the larger metropolitan news outlets.

            In the end, though the frogs had garnered the much needed attention they desired, no one, not one person connected their appearance to the pesticides that were genetically transforming the male frogs into egg bearing females.

            A schoolgirl, having seen the frogs that day, began to read about them. She came upon an article in a science journal that explained how humans were destroying habitats by dumping hazardous chemicals into the environment.  This schoolgirl might turn out to be the one the frogs were looking for.